The Prince and the Sortof Plan
by Tolemac102
Summary: Arthur is of age, so he must find a wife. Or so Uther thinks. So he invites the daughters of every noble in Camelot to a ball so Arthur can pick. Except the one person Arthur wants to marry is a servant girl. And the princesses are coming. Today. / Featuring Gwaine, socks, the Knights, Merlin's NOT-girlfriend, and soggy chickens./ AU.
1. In Which Merlin Runs Up Stairs

**Author's Note: I know, I'm sorry, I should be working on **_**I, Pabu**_** or (and) **_**Rise of the Dead**_**, but the idea struck me, and I couldn't let it go. Plus, I have writers block. So, here's the prologue to a brand-new fic! And without further ado (or excuses) let us get on with the… reading. Enjoy!**

The Prince (ss) and the Plea

A Merlin Fanfiction

Prologue: In Which Merlin Runs Up Stairs

Merlin burst into Arthur's room, eyes wild, gasping for breath after having run up three and a half flights of stairs from the stables. The prince was on his feet in an instant, only half dressed in a pair of black breeches, his sword drawn and extended towards the doorway. Merlin yelped, and jumped back. "Watch it!"

"What the heck do you want, Merlin?" snarled Arthur bad-temperedly, lowering the sword point. "It's not even dawn! The bloody sun is still asleep!"

"Urgent news," gasped Merlin, collapsing into one of Arthur's chairs. "From Gwen who heard it from Edward the stable boy who heard from his mother's friend's cousin Jared who knows this other guy who is King Henrik's personal servant's cousin twice removed-"

"What. Do. You. Want," Arthur repeated bad-temperedly, spitting out each word like an insult. He lay back down on his bed and laced his fingers behind his head. Merlin shook his head, signifying a negative answer, still trying to catch his breath, and Arthur sighed and rephrased his question. "Your point?"

Merlin took a deep breath, willing his lungs to calm. "The- king- your- own- father- wants- you- to- marry- really- rather- soon- so- you- can- make- him- some- heirs- and- the- Pendragon- lineage- will- not- die- out- so- he's- sent- invitations- to- every- single- noble- family- in- Albion- so- they- can- each- send- one- of- their- daughters- to- the- castle- to- be- tested- to- see- if- they- can- be- wed- to- the- crown- prince- and- now- you- are- so- unbelievably- doomed- because- Lord- what- is- his- name- I- know- it- I- heard- it- just- three- minutes- ago- oh- right- Richardson's- eldest- daughter- is- coming- today- in- the- evening- and- you'd- better- come- up- with- a- plan- to- save- yourself- from- all- the- princesses- ladies- whatever- or- else- you'll- end- up- as- the- groom- for- fifty- weddings!"

Arthur sat up again, suddenly awake. "Wait! My father did what!?" Then, when the rest of Merlin's words sank in, he shouted. "He wants me to do WHAT?! I'm nineteen - I mean twenty - for God's sake! Is he mad?!"

Merlin nodded sagely. "I had been suspecting it for a while now, Arthur. Now I have proof!"

"WAIT!" cried Arthur again as Merlin turned to leave, humming a funeral dirge under his breath that sounded eerily like a modified version of the wedding march. "How many are there? Altogether?

Merlin shrugged, looking thoughtful. "Dunno. But I think there's a lot. A few more than five score. A hundred and six, I think. If you count the kings- wait. Knights are nobles, right?"

"No, they aren't," stated Arthur tersely. Bloody heck, he was so far past dead he didn't even know a word for it.

"Good." Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. "Take away something around eighty-two-and-a-half from the original number. Maybe twenty or so left. Twenty-five? Hm. No. Er...  
Ah! Nineteen and a half daughters. Wait. Half? Maybe..."

Arthur thumped his head against the headboard of his bed and groaned.

**Author's Note: What did you think? Sorry it was short. I'll try to update this once every two weeks, but it might take me a bit longer. Please review!**


	2. In Which Arthur Doesn't Get Drunk

The Prince and the Sort-of Plan

A Merlin Fanfiction

Chapter Two: In Which Arthur Doesn't Get Drunk

Arthur had grown up knowing that he would be married off for political reasons, not for love, and he couldn't help but wish sometimes, that he didn't have to, because this was definitely going to be bad. Not only because of the lord's daughter that was arriving in roughly fifteen minutes.

"_Mer_lin!" he yelled. "Get over here!"

His servant clattered through the door, tripping over an invisible rug, and catching himself on the table by the face. Merlin looked up. "Yeah?"

"I'm, ah, disappearing for the rest of the day," announced Arthur, pulling on his red jacket. "So, _Mer_lin, if you would cover for me." It was a statement, not a question.

Merlin stood up, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "About that. The king has expressly told me to tell you to remember not to plan anything for tonight because Lady Isabella Richardson of Northumbria is arriving in ten minutes and you _still aren't ready_."

"And whose fault is that, _Mer_lin?" asked Arthur. "And isn't Northumbria the kingdom to the west that wants to raze Camelot to the ground and then step on it?"

"Er, mine," said Merlin, tactfully ignoring Arthur's second question. "But!" he added hastily as Arthur opened his mouth, "I was busy making a plan to save you from the brides-to-be." He yanked Arthur's jacket from his grasp, and tossed it onto the bed, cutting through Arthur's protest. "And no- I can't tell you about the plan, because then you won't be able to do what you're supposed to do. No, I can't tell you that either. Sorry. Morgana says it's for the best."

He patted Arthur on the shoulder comfortingly. "See you at dinner. By the way, the knights will be there too. Makes it a bit more festive."

"Right," muttered Arthur morosely. "Dinner. See you, Merlin." He trudged down the stairs to the dining hall.

.o0o.

Merlin detoured to the left as soon as he made sure Arthur was going in the right direction, nearly crashing into Gwen. "Oh, hi Gwen!" he yelped. "Why are you here? Where're Morgana and the knights?"

Gwen steadied Merlin with one hand, clapping the other one over his mouth. "Shh! Guards around. They talk more than they seem to. I was looking for you. Everything's ready. Morgana and the knights are already in the dining hall. I ran through the plan again before they set off. Just you left." She regarded him closely. "You do remember what you're supposed to do, right?"

Merlin stood up, huffing indignantly. "Of course I do! I was the one that came up with the plan, after all."

Gwen nodded. "Right. Let's go save Arthur."

.o0o.

For once, the dining hall was well lit, fire dancing in all of the braziers, setting a festive tone that in no way matched Arthur's mood. He stepped in; resolutely ignoring the three people that sat on his father's left. Instead he seated himself by Morgana, using her as a shield from Lady Isabella, who was on the other side of his father, two seats away.

It wasn't as if he wasn't attracted to her. She was pretty enough, he supposed, with white-blond hair and piercing green eyes, and she was smarter than most other noble girls he knew. But her dad wanted to kill him, which wasn't a plus in his book.

He was drawn from his thoughts when Morgana poked him in the ribs. "Slouch," she counseled in a whisper. "Chew with your mouth open. Wipe your mouth on your sleeve, act drunk." She paused, considering. "You do that, and this battle is as good as won."

Arthur looked at her in puzzlement. "What battle?"

Morgana shook her head, muttering, her eyes darting to the doors. "Us against Isabella, what did you think?" Then, "Where is Gwen? It's not like her to be late, unless she went to get Merlin." She turned to Arthur again. "On second thought, don't act drunk. Gwaine's got that settled, and he's better at it than you."

"Don't worry, Arthur, we have a plan. And inside information," said Merlin out of the side of his mouth. Arthur started in surprise. He hadn't even heard the servant coming in. Then, to Morgana, Merlin said, "Gwen's ready. She's coming. She noticed that we weren't actually serving pomegranate wine, went to the kitchens to complain. Count it as fixed."

Morgana nodded. "Thanks, Merlin."

.o0o.

For Merlin, the first half of the dinner was a blur of running to and from the kitchens, because they were short on staff, half the cooks having temporarily resigned because of the origin of their company. He passed Gwen a few times, and nodded to her, before she whirled off in a swirl of lavender skirts. A few times, he noticed Arthur watching her when he thought nobody was looking. Merlin smiled to himself.

Then the bell tower struck ten, resounding booms echoing through the hall, through the bones of the people there. In the minute that everyone was spellbound, Merlin ducked into the kitchen again, trading his jug of wine for a fresh one on the counter. He chanced a sniff and wrinkled his nose at the scent of alcohol. But at least he was certain this one was pomegranate. Its smell was sharper than the more mellow grape wines.

The bell stopped, and the chattering began again. The food was finished now, the table littered with gnawed bones of chicken, boar, and fish. The knights had spotted a few shy girls in the crowd, and pulled them onto the dance floor. Merlin stopped, glancing around, and spotted Isabella standing at the edge of the dance floor, looking down her nose at Arthur.

Merlin winked to Gwen, who nodded encouragingly at him over a stack of dirty dishes. He made his way to Isabella, filling the glasses of all who he passed, making sure to leave enough in the jug for The Plan.

He ducked around a spinning couple, marveling at how much harder it was to act clumsy that it was to actually me clumsy. Oh, well. He'd figure it out. Then Merlin tripped over a chair leg that he could have sworn was not there when he looked three minutes ago. The jug of pomegranate wine flew out of his hands. One of the knights in Camelot red lunged to catch it, but only succeeded in knocking it onto the esteemed guest, Lady Isabella of Northumbria. The wine splashed onto her mint green dress, staining it brown from the right shoulder to the hip. Wine dribbled down her arm and dripped off her nose. Merlin met Gwaine's gaze as the other man crashed to the floor, stifling a laugh.

Lady Isabella of Northumbria shrieked, batting at her dress, and stamped her foot, screaming about how that 'horrid, horrid servant' ought to be flogged; one lash for every stitch of clothing that was ruined. Merlin winced at the thought. Oh well, at least the plan worked.

But then Arthur bent down and helped Isabella up, and she batted her eyelashes at him. From to his left, Merlin heard a disgusted groan that might have been Lancelot. "I am so sorry, Milady. Are you alright? That's my manservant. He's horrible, but he tries to do his best."

"Thanks to you, I am," simpered the girl. Merlin could hear Lancelot fake retching behind him.

Arthur handed the no longer distressed girl to one of the Northumbrian knights. "Sorry about that."

"Its fine," said the knight. Arthur nodded, and turned to go find Merlin with a long list of chores.

.o0o.

Merlin was waiting for him outside the door. He grabbed Arthur by the arm, and dragged him up the stairs to Arthur's chambers.

"What, _Mer_lin? And how was that supposed to help her hate me? I even did the whole slouching part, and now she's clinging to me like, like a dying man clings to life."

"Then she knows she'll have to give up sometime soon," stated Merlin matter-of-factly.

Arthur wasn't reassured in the least.

"Don't worry," said Merlin for the second time that evening. "We've got it all covered. Just go to your room, and lock the door. And make sure you don't answer the door unless the person knocks like this." He demonstrated on the wall. Slow, fast, fast, slow, slow. "Then you knock: fast, fast, and let them in. Got it?"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, _Mer_lin. I'm not a child."

"Sometimes I wonder," muttered Merlin under his breath.

"What was that?" asked Arthur sharply.

"What do you mean?" asked Merlin, turning around. "You must be hearing things. Have you been hit on the head by a clot pole?"

"Shut up, Merlin," said Arthur. "You idiot."

"Goodnight, Prince Prat," returned Merlin. "Sleep well." Then he closed the door, and ran to his rooms.

He met Morgana, Gwen, and the others outside his door, looking suspicious standing around the physician's chambers. We'll have to work on that, thought Merlin, making a mental note. He nodded, and opened the door.

"Hi, Gaius," muttered Merlin as he led Morgana and the knights up the stairs. "I can't clean the leech tank today. I'm busy."

Gaius, noticing that the footsteps carried on for quite a bit longer than they should have, looked up from his translation of The Variouse Anommalies of the Humane Soule. "Hello, Lady Morgana, Guinevere. Sir Eylan, Sir Lancelot, Sir Leon, Sir Gwaine, Sir Perci- Merlin, what are you doing?"

"Um," said Merlin smartly, trying to back into his room and smacking into the doorframe instead.

"We're saving Arthur," supplied Morgana. "You don't mind us borrowing your rooms as headquarters? Because we can't use Arthur's. Or mine. Too obvious."

Gaius nodded. "No problem at all, my dear." He dipped his quill into the inkwell. "And, may I ask, what are you saving Arthur from?"

"Himself," answered Gwaine and Merlin, just as Gwen said, "Brides-to-be," and Lancelot muttered, "Lord Richardson and Uther." Gaius looked confused.

"Thanks!" shouted Merlin. "Oh, and you didn't see any of us coming in here. Except me. Actually, you didn't see me, either. We're all… in the kitchens, washing dishes, or something." He ducked into his room, closing the door after him.

Morgana and Gwen were seated on the bed, and Lancelot was perched on the window seat. Leon had claimed the only chair, and Gwaine, Eylan, Percival were cross-legged on the floor.

"Okay," said Merlin, exhaling in the same breath. "Here's the score as of today." He chalked a line on the right side of the board.

Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and Knights: 1

Uther, Lords and Brides-to-be: 0

**Author's Note: Really? Really? **_**A HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE PEOPLE**_** read this fic. How many readers review? ONE. **_**ONE**_**. Really? Shame. Thanks to Saroura92. I appreciate that **_**someone **_**took the time to review. All you non-reviewers: how's this? You review this (or another one of my fics), and I'll review one of your fics, as long as I know the fandom it takes place in. Yes? Good. **


	3. In Which Merlin Learns His Alphabet

**Author's Note: No, I haven't gone off and died in a pit. Sorry. Here's the next installation of The Prince and the Sort-of Plan. Enjoy!**

The Prince and the Sort-of Plan

A Merlin Fanfiction

Chapter Two: In Which Holes are Cut in Shoes

It was a happy day. Birds were chirping in the trees, the sun was shining, there wasn't a forecast of rain until the next week, and Prince Arthur of Camelot was miserable. "Rise and shine, Prince Prat!" cried Merlin cheerily, yanking the blankets off Arthur.

"Why are you so blasted_ happy_?" grumbled Arthur. "Lady Larisa Algeria Dahlia Minaria Emalia Rodrickson the Second of Mercia is coming today. In the morning."

"She's here already, actually," corrected Merlin. "Downstairs." Then, "Lady what?"

"Larisa Minaria Algeria Dahlia Emalia Roderickson the Second of Mercia," said Arthur tightly. "It means beautiful- kind- sweet- gracious- wise… son of… Roderick." He paused, reviewing what he had just said. "I suppose she can't help her last name."

"…lots of 'a's," said Merlin weakly.

"Where's breakfast, _Mer_lin?" asked Arthur, looking around and changing the subject.

"Oh!" yelped Merlin, accidentally dropping a sock into the water jug. "It's downstairs, so you can 'get to know the delightful young lady' that is Larry-whatever her name was. You're father's words, not mine."

"You're kidding, right?" mumbled Arthur, yanking on one sock and hunting around for the other. "And where's my sock?"

.o0o.

"And we welcome, the Lady Larisa Algeria Dahlia… um… Emalia… Minaria…" the herald trailed off hesitantly, looking like he was about to die.

"Dahlia Minaria Emalia Rodrickson the Second of Mercia," whispered Gwen as she passed him with a plate of grapes.

"Lady Larisa Algeria Dahlia Minaria Emalia Rodrickson the Second of Mercia," said the herald, looking slightly less pale.

The girl in question glided through the double doors of Castle Camelot's dining hall in a gown of silver and green, the jewels at her throat flashing in the weak morning light. Cold, heavy seeds of worry settled in the pit of Merlin's stomach when he saw Arthur's expression of rapture as the lady entered.

Lady Larisa seated herself at Arthur's side, fluttering her eyelashes. Arthur looked to Merlin for help on wooing. Merlin shrugged, a gesture that was supposed to mean 'I'm busy serving drinks, if you go serve drinks, I'll help you', but Arthur read as 'What'. Arthur glared back a look that meant 'You are _so_ mucking out the stables after this if you mess breakfast up like you usually do'. Merlin interpreted it correctly.

Larisa leant forward over Arthur's plate to wave at Merlin for more cider, and Merlin groaned inwardly. He stepped forward, a flagon of drink in his hands, and made his way around the other servers to Larisa. He poured her a glass, then turned to serve Arthur, mouthing _I think she likes you_. Arthur gazed back, his gaze saying _you really think so?_

.o0o.

After breakfast, Merlin burst into Gaius' chambers with a worried look on his face. "Gaius, have you seen Gwen, Morgana, or any of the knights?"

Gaius looked up from his book, glancing at Merlin over the tops of his crystal glasses. "Lady Morgana, Guinevere, and the Knights may have passed through here, but I didn't see them. I think they are in your room, but I didn't see them come in."

Merlin scowled. Gaius was being even more cryptic that the Great Dragon (and that was a feat to be proud of. Unfortunately, it was also a feat to give Merlin a headache. "What do you mean 'they may have come in' but you 'didn't see them'? What's that supposed to mean?"

Gaius looked at Merlin, his eyes twinkling in humor. "It means whatever you take it to mean, Merlin."

Merlin stomped around the room, growling. Then he remembered the instructions that he had given Gaius the day before. "Thanks, Gaius," he called, running up the stairs and yanking open the door.

Seven faces looked back at him.

"Oh, good, you're here," exclaimed Gwen. "I was thinking you weren't coming."

"Laundry and horses," grumbled Merlin. "But that isn't the point! I think Arthur actually likes Lady Whatever-her-name-is from Mercia. That can't happen! We can't let Uther win!"

Morgana threw her pen at him. "Since when were we playing against the king? Never mind. Start from the beginning, Merlin."

Merlin told them everything that had happened during breakfast. "And then I had to saddle a bunch of horses because they've decided to go off and hunt something or another so Arthur can show off his skill with the spear or mace or whatever," he finished.

Leon looked worried. "This is a problem."

"Obviously," said Gwaine. "But I have a plan."

Merlin snorted. "A nice, cold tankard of mead, no doubt."

Gwaine looked insulted. "No, peeled grapes. And mud. And Merlin. And me. Lots of help from me. LOTS and LOTS of help from me. And Gwen."

"What? When did I get involved?"

Merlin cut in abruptly. "That isn't the point." He drew another line on the board beside the bed. "This is." The board now read:

Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and Knights: 1

Uther, Lords and Brides-to-be: 1

.o0o.

A few minutes later, Gwaine and the other knights were gathered in the courtyard between the guest chambers and the dining hall, standing in a very suspicious clump.

Gwaine looked over his shoulder, then pulled his secret weapon out of his satchel. Well, Merlin's satchel, but nobody was keeping track, were they? And besides, what use would a noble knight Camelot have for a _satchel_? "Ready?"

"Shh!" hissed Lancelot, looking over to where Morgana was curtseying to another of the visiting lords.

"What?" protested Gwaine, holding up his free arm in protest, "I haven't even done anything yet!"

"Good," said Percival shortly, peering over Lancelot's head. "Keep it that way." Lancelot muffled a laugh, but the side of his mouth quirked up despite his efforts.

"Can you see Leon?" muttered Eylan. "He's running late." He paused, and then amended his statement. "Of course, 'running'being a subjective term." He groaned as Percival shook his head.

"Aren't we supposed to be in the dining hall for lunch in fifteen minutes? Get on with it, Gwaine," commanded Lancelot in a stage whisper.

"Fine, yes, bossybritches. I'm getting there." Gwaine pulled a dagger out of his belt and sliced open a grape from the satchel, peeled off the skin, dropped the skin onto the cobblestones, and ate the grape.

Percival stepped onto the grape, sliding his foot forward and back. "It works," he reported. "If we have enough, we can actually pull this off." The other knights drew their swords and their own bunches of grapes.

.o0o.

Gwen groaned as she passed Merlin going up the stairs to the guest chambers where the brides-to-be were residing. "Really," she grumbled. "How many pairs of shoes does a person need?"

"Lots," replied Merlin dryly. "I really rather bring shoes up to the brides that be Arthur's target for spear practice."

Gwen nodded. "Good point." Nodding a farewell to Merlin, she continued up the stairs to Princess Larisa's chambers. She kicked out a knock on the door, glad that she at least wasn't wearing sparkly, sequined slippers. Boots were _much_ more practical.

Larisa opened the door with a squeal or either repulsion or delight. Gwen wasn't sure which, nor did she care to find out. "Your shoes, milady." As if that wasn't obvious. Larisa squealed again. Delight, Gwen decided. But she'd be squealing from much more in a moment.

The lady ordered the shoes to be put on the bed. Then she twirled around in her mint green dress and lavender shawl. "What do you think?" Larisa sniffed in disdain. "You're just a maidservant. What would you know about dresses?" Gwen should have been nervous, but she wasn't. She'd coped last time with Vivien, after all. This couldn't be much worse.

She was wrong. The next words out of Larisa's mouth were "Pass me those purple shoes. I have to try all of them on, to see which one most suits me, so dearest Arthur will notice me and I can be a real princess!" Gwen winced. This was just like Vivian, except Larisa wasn't under a spell. Gwen wondered vaguely which was worse, shrugged, and passed over the shoes. The first pair was too loose, the next too tight. The third didn't match Larisa's dress, and the fourth matched her shawl, but left her eyes dull. The fifth was colored too much like the royal emblem of Camelot's greatest enemy, the sixth the dark blue-black that was considered the color of sorcery. And all of them, every single shoe, had holes in the heels.

"What is the meaning of this?" shrieked Larisa as she put her slippered foot on the floor and felt the cold of the stone along her heel. "How many rats does this lasted castle have? I have holes in every single one of my shoes!"

Gwen dipped her head. "My lady, I apologize, I fear our rat population has grown these past years, with few visitors to this castle. But I'm sure that the arrival of all the lords and ladies should make sure of no repeats in this, ah, episode of unfortunate events." It was complete and utter rubbish, as Gwen, Merlin, and Morgana had spent several hours that very morning cutting holes in the soles of every slipper. Larisa really had no appreciation of hard work. "Perhaps you could borrow the shoes of some other lady? I believe Lady Isabella brought several pairs of shoes."

Larisa shrieked again, this time in outrage. "Do you, a servant girl, think that you could tell me what I can and cannot do? Who do you think you are? Arthur's bride-to-be?" Larisa might not have intended it, but the words stung Gwen's gentle heart. It was true. She was a servant, and would always be a servant. She wouldn't ever become anything else. Arthur might have feelings for her, but these couldn't last. Gwen bowed her head, and said nothing.

"Go fetch me a pair of shoes from the Lady Morgana. Perhaps she can show me some of this 'feverent welcome' Camelot shows visitors." Gwen nodded and hurried from the room, not letting Larisa see the tears brimming in her eyes. (One Point Merlin)

.o0o.

Several minutes later, in a pair of deep purple shoes edged with emerald lace, Larisa emerged from Morgana's rooms, and headed to the door to the courtyard that led to the dining hall. Moments afterward, a posse of knights detached themselves from various columns in the courtyard, and followed her.

.o0o.

Merlin was drawn from the kitchen by a shriek that drifted through the still air of the courtyard. He poked his head out the window in time to catch the head cook yelling that "All of your cursed screeching is burning the bread in the bakery and would you kindly shut your trap?" The cause was the commotion was a green-skirted lady, flailing around on the ground in a very unflattering manner, blathering about grapes and shoes.

Gwaine popped up behind Merlin, nearly knocking over a bowl of citric acid for pastries, and grinned. "What do you think of my plan?" When he looked closely, Merlin could see the red-purple of grapeskins littering the cobblestones around the lady's feet.

Merlin grinned back, setting the bowl down on a high cupboard. "It's brilliant, Gwaine."

"Thanks, Merlin. Don't be so skeptical of my plans next time." Gwaine grinned, showing he had taken no offense. "Of course, mead is a great idea…" his voice trailed off, and Merlin rolled his eyes and pushed himself onto the windowsill to get a better look at the commotion in the courtyard.

The Lord Whatever of Wherever was waddling around in his silk robes, twiddling his fingers and looking worried. The rest of the knights, concealed oh-so-nicely behind several columns in the courtyard, gave Merlin a thumbs-up. Then Arthur sauntered around the corner, took one glance at the scene before him, and rushed to help Larisa up. "No, Arthur," whispered Merlin desperately, as if his friend could hear him over the noise of the kitchens. But Arthur took no heed of his friends' plans, and led the lady Larisa to lunch, her hand on his arm.

Back safely behind the closed door of the kitchen, Merlin groaned. "We have_ got_ to get rid of her." Gwaine nodded in morose agreement.

That night, the score on the moonlit board read:

Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and Knights: 3

Uther, Lords, and Brides-to-be: 2

.o0o.

**Author's Note: So, Merlin and his compatriots are still in the lead, but time is running out. Oh, no. **

**I'm hoping to work in a few twists that are (hopefully) humorous, as well as some Gwen/Arthur romance. By the way, if any of you people have ideas for pranks, please tell me in a review. I'm afraid my prank-growing fertilizer got thrown out on accident yesterday. **

**On another note (pun not intended), over 100 people have read the second chapter of this fic. 6 have reviewed. Really? What kind of standards are those? If you are one of those 94 or so people who have read this and neglected to review, shame! Thanks to toxicjade, Magicgirl41, 2lazy2login (nice guest name, by the way), Bellatrix0515, and Darklight-phoenix! **


	4. In Which Arthur Raises His Eyebrow

**Author's Note: You're all going to kill me, right? It's been what, three weeks? Oops.**

**Anyway, here's another chapter of The Prince and the Sort-of Plan. Thanks for sticking with me so far. I know I've been neglecting my other fics, and I apologize for that, but school's started, and I hope I can update monthly. If I can, I'll be updating my fics in turn every week, but I don't know yet if luck is on my side. It probably isn't. **

The Prince and the Sort-of Plan

A Merlin Fanfiction

Chapter Three: In Which Arthur Raises His Eyebrow

The dark-haired blue-eyed princess stepped out of the carriage, glancing at the two boys standing by the side of the road. She stepped forward again, then stopped and looked back at the dark-haired one. From his place on the side of the road, Merlin watched her with one eye and Arthur with the other.

She flounced up to the two, holding up the hem of her skirt a bit higher than was strictly necessary. Arthur stared. Merlin rolled his eyes. The princess simpered at Arthur, and batted her eyelashes coyly. "Well, hello, Milord." Arthur stared back, instantly besotted, giving her a sort of half-nod. Merlin groaned under his breath. _Here we go. Again. _So he was surprised when the lady stuck her hand under his face. He raised an eyebrow, and bowed deeply. "Greetings, My Lady," he murmured. He heard her inhale above him, sure she was going to murder him, but she let out a sharp breath, and shook her hand under his chin.

Merlin winced inwardly, cursing court etiquette, but pressed his lips to her hand, pulling back as fast as was possible without being openly insulting. Beside him, Arthur's face was an interesting combination of awestruck, jealous, and insulted. "My servant, Lady Victoria?" he asked.

She shook her head, gazing adoringly at Merlin. "No, he could not possibly be a servant. He must be the prince, with such luxurious raven hair, that snow-pale complexion like powdered sugar, and those sky-blue eyes that hint at adventure and forbidden romance." Merlin blanched. _What the heck!_ He mouthed to Arthur, looking slightly desperate. _What the bloody heck!_ Arthur simply shrugged, looking very smug indeed.

.o0o.

An hour before noon found the Court Physician's apprentice nearly tearing his hair out as he paced the floor of Gaius' chambers. "Why?" he moaned. 'Why me? Why can't she go off and fancy Arthur? She's bloody _supposed_ to fancy Arthur!"

The aforementioned physician looked over at Merlin over his bronze-rimmed spectacles. "You're a boy, she's a girl. You both are at the age where-"

"No!" Merlin nearly shrieked. "I know! I mean- I don't know- I don't- Don't tell me!"

"- so there is bound to be mutual attraction," finished Gaius, having completely ignored Merlin's shouted complaints.

Merlin groaned. _Maybe Gwen will be of more help. Or Morgana._ He turned to leave, sliding the door shut just as Gaius began another of his lectures on 'coming of age'.

.o0o.

Luck wasn't on his side. He had hardly turned the corner out of the corridor when he literally crashed into a large fluffy bundle of pink. For an instant, his frantic mind thought it was the dreaded princess herself, but he looked up into the face of the ugliest woman he had ever seen.

The woman had white-pink pasty skin, flabby cheeks, and a tiny upturned nose that would have ruined the face of anyone else. In this case, Merlin wondered if she could look any worse. Twin piggish eyes bugged out, the pinkish of the whites covering any other color, over a set of lips that had been colored to match the shade of blood, but looked only like she had had a bloody nose.

Merlin barely held in a gasp of revulsion, and scrambled upright, banging his knee hard against one of those useless mahogany tables that were always sitting around in the halls for no apparent reason. He bit back a curse, and stood, extending a hand to the woman to help her up. Although he supposed he probably wouldn't even be able to lift her hand, never mind the rest of it. Even Arthur would have a hard time.

She ignored it, hoisting herself to her feet with a heavy shove on the mahogany table, sending it crashing against Merlin again. He gritted his teeth as it smashed against his knee, and bowed, as befitted a servant. The ugly lady gasped.

"My lord, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" Merlin looked up at her, surprised. He wasn't the prince. But his thoughts were cut off as the lady prattled on. "Hair as black and silky as a raven's wing, she said, she did, my darling Vickie, and skin as pale and beautiful as the glow of the moon on first snowfall of winter. Blue eyes, said my Vickie dear, blue as the sky on a summer's morning." The woman sighed. "So when I saw you, I said to myself, Minnie my dear, this is him. This is the _prince_!" her voice rose to a shrill shriek on the last word.

Merlin took a nervous step backward. "Lady Minnie, I-"

"And so she tells me, the dear girl, please Minnie, won't you go out and wait by the physician's chambers? He must know everything, and he's unimportant enough to not be bothered if you ask. And so I walk out, and I take the stairs, and just as I turn the corner, there you are!" She beamed in what seemed like true excitement. Merlin made a mental note to ask Gaius about the stalking and eavesdropping. And the unimportant bit.

Lady Minnie suddenly grasped Merlin's hand. "Please, sire, won't you come and visit my darling Vickie? She so pines for you."

Merlin rolled his eyes discreetly. The girl had known him for all of six hours. "I'm a servant, Lady, not royalty." The Lady Minnie seemed to not have heard, and proceeded to drag Merlin up seven flights of stairs.

The two met Arthur coming down the third flight of stairs. "Ah, there you are, _Mer_lin! What a coincidence! I just happened to need my armor polished, my sword sharpened, my boots scrubbed, and my laundry done! And you're just the person to do it! Oh, and if you could muck out the stables. Bye!"

Merlin groaned. But then again, anything was better than being locked in a room with a girl. Gwen and Morgana excluded, of course.

.o0o.

Several hours later, Gaius looked up from his manuscript at a knock on the door. Actually, more of a frenzied banging accompanied by shrieks of "darling dear…raven-haired…moon-white skin…please…love him…broken heart…dying!" He rose, opened the door, and was immediately attacked by a flurry of lavender and mint gown.

"Physician, I fear I am dying, please, good sir, save me!" she wailed, over-dramatically, thought Gaius.

"Oh?" Gaius raised an eyebrow, turning to watch the girl at arm's length. "You are?" Then he recognized the girl. _Brown-black hair, blue-purple eyes, and an obsession with screaming, _Merlin had said_. Gaius, if you value my life, don't let her in!_ It was the girl that fancied Merlin. Gaius grinned inwardly.

"My fine lady, is it the schenphroenza, the deadly inflammation of the- no, wait, that's males only…the schinphraenza, the deadly inflammation of the cabbage leaf? Have you eaten cabbage recently, Lady? What about beets? Or carrots? All three are known carriers of the didaskalonazen. Or mutton? It harbors the deadly ingredient phyllisoniroxide, known to cause instant death of those in love."

Victoria looked confused, and flounced around the room. "Good sir, I am dying of a broken heart, for my one true love, the prince, does not love me back!" She clutched her hands to hear heart dramatically.

"Arthur?" asked Gaius in surprise, momentarily dropping his senile façade.

"Nooo," moaned the girl, her tone changing to a reverent one. "_Merlin._"

Gaius gagged as the girl continued.

"Merlin, that beautiful man with the hair of ebony, and skin as milky-white as the most expensive pearls that I wear around my throat, he is the one that has stolen my heart." Gaius looked. The necklace at her throat was jade. "His eyes, oh his eyes, they are as calm as a pool of the deepest life-giving water, as blue as the feathers on a bluebird, as magnificent as the dragons themselves! Oh, _Merlin,_" she sighed.

Gaius groaned to himself. Never again would he complain when Merlin argued about Arthur's prattishness. At least that was better than _this._

.o0o.

Meanwhile, on the floor above, six men, including the afore-mentioned raven-haired one stood on the balcony overlooking Gaius' chambers. Gwaine nudged Lancelot in the side, and adopted a simpering tone, batting his eyelashes ridiculously. "Oh, Merlin, my sweet sugar cube, with your hair as beautiful and dark as the mud in a swamp, your skin as pale and innocent as the teeth of the Questing Beast, your eyes as blue as the sky on a cloudy day, oh, beautiful man, please, I love you!"

Lancelot lowered his voice, sounding overly masculine. "Oh, Lady Victoria, I do not love you. I cannot love you, for I am but the prince's humble and useless servant."

"Oh, goody!" squealed Gwaine. "Forbidden romance!" He batted his eyelashes again, and lifted up the hem of an imaginary skirt. "Let us run away to Cenred's kingdom, my love, and elope!"

"Lady," shouted Lancelot. "I-I-I…" his voice trailed off.

"If you're all quite _done,_" snapped Merlin. "We have a plan to carry out."

"Oh, right," muttered Gwaine. "But you can't deny that wasn't fun." He turned to Lancelot. "It was, wasn't it, my darling Merlin?"

Wisely, Lancelot stayed silent.

.o0o.

The knights followed Merlin through a series of secret passages and past a hidden door behind a tapestry of some random knight chopping the head off a dragon, until they stood at the threshold of Lady Victoria's rooms. Leon was armed with a bucket, Merlin had a shovel, Eylan had gloves, and Gwaine had a set of lockpicks.

Gwaine grinned at the locks. Seven, in total, only three of them bolted. He extracted a thin piece of wire, twisted it inside, then poked it around until the lock clicked satisfyingly. He then proceeded to demolish the other two. "There, he breathed, when he was finally done.

Merlin nodded his thanks at the other knight, and followed the others into the room. Leon set the bucket down on the floor beside the bed with a gentle thud and oof of released breath. Eylan handed Merlin the gloves, and a pair of tweezers. Merlin passed both to Percival, who stuck them in his pocket, knelt down, picked up the bucket, and dumped its contents over the bed.

A horde of crickets, worms, garden snakes, moths, beetles, and bees cascaded onto the bed. Percival then uncorked a glass vial filled with dark brown powder, and sprinkled it over the pillow with the gloves. Merlin grinned. This time, the itching powder had to work.

"Great," whispered Merlin. "Done. Now we just have to-" He stopped abruptly as footsteps sounded outside the door. "Hide!" he hissed, "Now! She's coming!"

The knights needed no further encouragement, and dashed to various spaces under the bed. Gwaine opened the closet to hide, then shrieked and slammed the door shut, diving under the bed, shoving Merlin out the other side.

Just as Merlin regained his footing, the door opened, letting in a flabbergasted Victoria. She shrieked with joy, sounding strangely like Gwaine, and clutched Merlin around the middle, squeezing the air out of him. "Oh, Merlin!" she shrieked. "I knew you would come for me!" She cleared her throat daintily and straightened her dress. "Won't you walk me out to dinner, Sire?"

"Oh, um," stammered Merlin, as Victoria's face got up close and personal, going cross-eyed as he looked at her nose. "Er, fine, ah, that is…"

Victoria brightened. "Wonderful, Merlin! You can sit by me, and we can feed on another off of our own forks!" She sighed dreamily. "Wouldn't that be _romantic_?"

"Um," said Merlin, trying to regain circulation in his arm. "Yes, it would, I suppose…"

Victoria grabbed his arm, and yanked him out of the room. Just before the door shut, Merlin made eye contact with Gwaine. He sent him a Look that said_ You owe me._ Gwaine nodded, grinning.

.o0o.

Dinner passed in a blur of food and drink and laughter. Afterwards, Victoria grabbed Merlin's arm again, and yanked him out of the room. "I'm sleepy, Merlin. Carry me to my room like a gentleman." Merlin did so, depositing her outside her door, hoping she wouldn't wonder how he knew that particular door was hers.

She smiled at him, and suddenly yanked his jacket collar down so his face was level with hers. She leaned in, her eyes sliding shut, and Arthur walked by.

"Merlin!" He yelled. "If you're going to kiss a girl, at least do it somewhere private!"

Merlin jerked back, reddening. "It's not- no, Arthur- I wasn't-No!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "No? She seems to want to kiss you. Rather a lot." He paused, considering. "It's an hour to midnight, what in Camelot are you two doing-" His eyebrow went up higher. "Actually, I don't want to know. Not even a little."

Merlin stepped back again. And again. "Not-" He went redder. "I wouldn't- not here- really-"

Arthur shrugged. "What a man does in his free time is not my problem. Just don't do it in public." He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. Merlin reddened more, and fled from the scene, chanting under his breath "beetles, worms, bees, moths, snakes, crickets, beetles, worms, moths…"

.o0o.

In the middle of the night, Merlin woke to the sound of a scream that sounded like it came from the rooms of Lady Victoria. He grinned in satisfaction, and rolled back over to fall asleep, facing the wall that held the blackboard, which now read:

Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and Knights: 5

Uther, Lords, and Brides-to-be: 3

**Author's Note: Okay, that was immensely fun. Really. Coming up with all those poetic names for that warlock was very fun. All in all, this is probably my favorite chapter****so far.**

**I've just realized that I have the knights carrying out all the pranks. Hm. That was unintentional.**

**Do any of you have any sort of pranks? I'm currently out of ideas, and can't write any more of this without ideas!**

**Please review!**


	5. In Which Merlin Does Magic

**Author's Note: I am horribly, terribly sorry I have not updated in about six months. I have no excuses. So this chapter is slightly longer. Enjoy!**

**BTW, I've just realized that I have forgotten a VERY IMPORTANT THING in every single one of my fics: the disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: (Better late than never, no?) I don't own the ideas of any of the characters that exist in the original legends (Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Lancelot, Leon, Percival, Eylan, Gaius, Gwaine, Nimue – not that she's showing up, Uther…) although I think that they aren't actually copyright to anybody anymore, nor do I own anything here that has to do with BBC's Merlin. Yeah. I do own Lady Pearl and Lady Katherine. I think.**

**Please note: any similarities to living or dead people is purely coincidental, as this is a work of fiction. **

**This chapter is dedicated to Lailastar (Guest) for the idea. Thanks!**

The Prince and the Sort-of Plan

Chapter Four: In Which Merlin Does Magic (And Nobody Notices)

Merlin was not having a good day. It was raining, for one. He had also been kicked multiple times in the kneecap in the past half hour. He was wet, muddy, tired, hungry, and getting downright irritable. And now this. It was almost too much for someone to be expected to handle - even a warlock of the Old Religion.

"What do you mean 'two have arrived'?" shouted Merlin, half rising from his perch on the windowsill.

Leon nodded from his spot on the bed. "Two. Lady Pearl and Lady Katherine. Twin sisters and the two eldest daughters of the highest-ranking noble in Cenred's kingdom- I mean, Essetir. Cenred went and got himself killed a few months back," he said quietly, continuing, "Pearl's older by maybe six minutes, but rumor has it Katherine is prettier. But they're identical twins, so I don't really see how it matters."

Gwaine looked questioningly at Arthur's second-in-command, tilting so that he nearly toppled the bookcase he was leaning against. "Didn't the letter say explicitly 'one daughter'?"

Lancelot nodded. "'A cordial invitation from Camelot to all of the noblemen of Mercia, Gawant, Carleon, Essetir, Camelot, and Nemath: I, King Uther Pendragon of Camelot bid them hearken to Camelot with one of their daughters, to be subject to the possibility of becoming the next Queen of Camelot and the wife of the Crown Prince Arthur of Camelot.'" he quoted. "Apparently this guy isn't too good at counting. And Uther apparently likes the word _Camelot_."

Nobody smiled.

"No bloody kidding," muttered Merlin, running an agitated hand through his hair. "No _bloody_ kidding."

Gwen looked around at the worried faces of the people around her, and let a half-smile flit onto her face. "I do have a plan, if anybody would listen."

"Yeah?" asked Percival doubtfully. Elyan nodded, silently echoing Percival's question.

"Even nobles have to take baths, right? And chickens don't much like water, do they?" asked Gwen carefully.

Morgana nodded. So did Gaius, who was listening in to their conversation but pretending not to. "True," he said, "on both counts."

"Well, there you have my plan. Chickens and bathwater."

Merlin was nodding, seemingly the only one that got the gist of her plan. "Sounds like it might work."

Percival half-smiled, ignoring his flaming ears. "But we'll have to put the chickens in the Lady's bathwater. And we aren't ladies, if you get my drift."

Morgana smirked. "That's where Gwen and I come in. Two of them, two of us. Simple."

But then Elyan voiced what everyone else was thinking. "Where in the name of Camelot are we going to get chickens on loan?"

.o0o.

Half an hour later found the group huddled behind the chicken coops, waiting for the owner of the chickens to clear out for the night. The knights' deep red cloaks had been exchanged for grey ones, and Morgana had been talked out of wearing her bright red one, regardless of patriotism.

"Does anybody else find it a bit indecent that the knights of Camelot are skulking around after dark, plotting to steal chickens?" asked Lancelot quietly, shifting in his now-grey cloak to rest his weight on his other leg. "Because it wouldn't comfort me in the least if I was a commoner."

"What comforts you doesn't matter right now," said Leon. "That this plan works does."

"Oh, thanks," said Lancelot huffily. "So glad you lot heed my wise counsel."

"Mmm," hummed Morgana. "Very wise." Then she kicked him in the knee. "Maybe, O Wise Counselor, you could counsel yourself to shut up so we don't get caught."

"Fine, _Milady_."

Footsteps echoed through the darkness to their right, and the group of four went silent. Merlin strained his ears, but heard nothing but the light wind and the shifting dust. He glanced at his accomplices. Morgana was glaring at Lancelot, who was glaring back. Leon was watching the shadows on the far side of the road. Merlin gritted his teeth. This would be the first time he'd preformed magic so close to his friends – while they were still conscious.

"_Gwrandar_," he whispered, voicing the Old Welsh word for listen, and his pupils dilated for a moment as his magic flowed through him. The sound around him magnified tenfold. He listened again. There. To their left came the squeaking of an old gate and the murmured clucking of a hundred chickens.

"That way," said Merlin, pointing to his left.

Morgana eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing.

The knights and Merlin and Morgana followed Merlin through the lower city streets until even Gwaine, whose hearing wasn't very good at the best of times, could hear the chickens. Morgana handed Merlin a basket and a pitchfork.

"Great," muttered Merlin. "Now I feel perfectly capable for defending myself against any unhatched eggs that decide to kill me."

None of his compatriots listened, all reacting differently to the sight of several hundred chickens sitting in neat rows on wooden rafters. Some in the group were holding their noses, others were frowning, another part was leering at the chickens, a few more were looking carefully over their shoulder, the rest – admittedly, there were only the four of them: Merlin, Morgana, Lancelot, and Leon.

"Holy gods of Albion," muttered Lancelot, removing his hand from his nose. "That is a lot of chickens."

Merlin was inclined to agree. Even in Ealdor, the person who had had the most chickens was Will, and he'd only had three.

Forty-seven minutes, thirteen and a half broken eggs, five pecked fingers, two roosters, and a fox chase later, they had the chickens they needed

"Right," muttered Lancelot. "Now, to get back into the castle."

"Ah, right," said Merlin, dropping the basket of eggs on his foot, "I forgot about that."

"That's going to be a slight issue," said Leon, as he realized they'd locked themselves out when they closed the outer gates to the castle.

"Damn straight," said Gwaine, kicking idly at a stray chicken. It squawked angrily. "Same to you," replied Gwaine flippantly.

.o0o.

Getting out of the castle had been easy. The two knights had snuck out a side door; Merlin had almost-honestly told the castle guards that he was running an errand for the prince –he was, except the prince didn't know about it; and Morgana had said she was spending the night at Gwen's. Except now, the door was locked and really only Merlin had an alibi to get back in. And it really wouldn't do for the royal ward and two of the royal knights to be sitting out in the cold and damp for the rest of the night. Or for them to climb over the castle walls.

Then Merlin had had a brilliant, wonderful, completely insane plan. "We get arrested, and then escape from the dungeons."

"What about the chickens?" asked Lancelot, worried despite his earlier grumbling. Merlin, Morgana, and Leon _looked_ at him. "What? I'd rather not get discovered because some idiot bird can't keep its beak shut."

Morgana sighed. "Why is it that men never plan ahead?"

Lancelot looked affronted. "We do too!"

"Like when?" muttered Morgana. Lancelot had no reply. "_So," _she continued, "we go in through the kitchens. To be precise, we go through the sewers." She glared at Leon, who was looking faintly green in the dim lantern light. "Come on. Let's go."

"I never said anything against your plan, milady," complained Leon.

"I could see you were going to," she replied, striding forward.

"Impressive," said Elyan, breaking into a jog to keep up, "How?"

"I'm a woman," she snapped, "now get moving."

.o0o.

"That was so not a good idea," grumbled Merlin, eyeing his cloak, now smeared with unmentionable items from within the sewers. "I am never listening to you again, Morgana." The chicken dangling upside-down from his left hand squawked, as if in agreement. He flipped it upright and passed it to Gwen.

"Hello, there," she crooned, stroking it under the chin, "how're you?"

The chicken made a pleased gurgling noise. Gwaine glared jealously at Gwen.

.o0o.

"So," said Merlin, after Gwen and Morgana had left to do what had been code-named _the delivery_, "the score."

"The score," echoed Leon. Everybody glanced at the board, which read:

Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and Knights: 3  
Uther, Lords, and Brides to be: 3

"The score," confirmed Merlin. "We're tied. Three all."

"This is bad," said Lancelot, voicing what the majority of the group was thinking.

"Arthur keeps screwing stuff up," said Gwaine, leaning back on the legs of his chair. "We've got to warn him."

"The only person that keeps secrets worse than Arthur is Merlin," said Lancelot, glancing at Merlin, "no offense meant."

Merlin sighed and spread his hands. "What can I say? It's the truth." He grew serious. "But Gwaine is right. We do have to change something. Currently, the only variable is Arthur. So I was thinking-"

The door slammed open, then slammed shut. Morgana threw herself against the wall.

The men froze.

"Mission accomplished," gasped Morgana, saluting half-heartedly. "Ladies Katherine and Pearl are to take their baths in a quarter of an hour. Gwen is ready and in position."

"I have got to see this," said Gwaine, standing.

"I don't," said Percival forcefully, sitting firmly down and crossing his arms. "I refuse. I will not deface the honor of the ladies-"

"Don't then, Percy," said Gwaine, slapping Merlin on the back congenially. "Merlin here will come with me."

Merlin squeaked. "Er. I will?"

"Indeed, good servant," said Gwaine, grabbing Merlin by the shirt. "Come along now."

"I, um-" protested Merlin, reaching toward the rest of the group with his spare hand, "I have issues with-"

"No, you don't," said Gwaine cheerily. "Stop dragging your feet. We'll miss the show." Then he turned to Elyan and Lancelot. "You're coming too."

Gaius didn't even turn around when Gwaine dragged three protesting men through his workshop, as if it were a common occurrence. And considering the company Merlin kept, it might as well be. The door slammed shut. Gaius only huffed in irritation as half a gram too much of rock salt caused his experiment to explode in his face.

.o0o.

Three-quarters of an hour later, Gwaine was bored of leaning against a pillar, pretending to watch the non-existent drill sergeant put the rest of the imaginary knights through horrendous drills.

"Somebody should go look and see what's happening," he suggested, looking at Elyan and Lancelot.

"I don't think-" began Lancelot as Elyan said, "May I refuse-"

"Nope," said Gwaine, shoving them onto the balcony through the open window, "off you go. The window to the bathing room is to your right. It shouldn't be locked, to let the steam escape."

After the two left, Merlin looked at Gwaine. "Was that a good idea?"

"Of course it was," said Gwaine, leaning forward. "Now hush, something's happening."

Something indeed was happening.

The door to the bathing rooms burst open, followed by two screaming ladies in only their shifts and a pair of hollering men with chicken feathers in their hair and, a while later, a maid in a yellow dress stomping out of the bathing room with a fierce look on her face.

Merlin, hiding in the corridor behind a pillar, yelped and smacked his hand over his eyes.

.o0o.

Gwen strode down the corridor, fury burning in her eyes. Burning so bright she wasn't looking where she was going, and smacked into somebody. She caught the glint of chainmail, and took a deep breath. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Gwaine, sdoing something like that. Have you no shame? The two poor ladies were scared out of their wits. I'll not be surprised if they never come again-"

"Er, Guinevere?" said Arthur's voice.

Gwen looked up and blushed, dropping neatly into a deep curtsey. "Milord, I, um, didn't see you there. I'm so sorry, I didn't intend-"

"Gangway!" shrieked a voice that might have been Gwaine from the far end of the corridor, "Coming through!" A screaming pile of white cloth and chicken feathers that might have been the Ladies Katherine and Pearl shoved both Gwen and Arthur backward into a closet. The door closed, and the latch clicked shut.

Arthur looked along the bottom of his chin. "Um, hello." He shuffled a little to the right and winced as a broom tipped over and whacked him over the ear. "Ow."

There was muffled laughter from outside, and the words, "Aren't you glad the door's only able to be unlocked from the outside?"

Gwen ground her teeth together. "I'll murder that Gwaine."

"I'll help," agreed Arthur wholeheartedly. "Is the plan to kill, wound, or maim?"

.o0o.

Meanwhile, the parade of ladies, chickens, and three knights (Lancelot and Elyan had been joined by Gwaine when they passed the cellars) was crashing through the castle in high spirits.

The high spirits continued until Lady Katherine tripped on a wayward towel and went flying through a window that had been open for airing. The wind lifted her skirt to barely above her knee. Lancelot blushed. Gwaine whistled, and lunged forward.

Lady Pearl threw herself into Lancelot's arms. "What a tragedy," she wailed, smearing lipstick across the collar of his dress shirt, "two lovestruck lovers, cast to certain death by the cruel hand of fate. Now there is only you and I, my knight."

"Ooh!" screamed Lady Pearl's handmaidens, "Kind and mysterious!"

Outside the window, Gwaine had caught Lady Katherine before she had fallen three feet to a balcony stretching the length of the wall.

"Oh, my knight," she whispered, pressing her cheek to his, "thank you, my good knight." She stood, clinging to Gwaine like a limpet. "Thank you, for saving me from certain death."

"Er," said Gwaine, who was thinking his plan might not have been such a good one, now that he had purple eyeshadow all over his favorite white shirt, "you're welcome?"

"Ooh! Dark and handsome!" shrieked Lady Katherine's handmaidens gleefully.

Gwaine nodded edgily, trying to extract himself from her grip, succeeding only in tangling his legs in towels. Now, he knew how Arthur felt.

.o0o.

After nearly an hour of yelling and knocking on the door, a posse of passing servants finally deemed it within their interests to unlock the door.

Arthur was disgruntled. Gwen was furious. Larisa was beside herself with joy.

Before Gwen could begin lecturing anybody, she threw herself into Arthur's arms, murmuring how worried about his safety she had been, and how she had stayed strong and not faltered in sending servants to find him.

Then, in front of half the serving staff of the castle, including Gwen and Merlin, she pressed her lips to Arthur's. Merlin glanced worriedly at Gwen, to see her face cold and emotionless, her eyes watery. He glanced back at Arthur and Larisa, still locked at the lips.

Except…

Arthur was kissing back, his hands finding their way into Larisa's hair. Several of the servants applauded and whistled.

Larisa finally broke the kiss, smiling brightly at Arthur. "May the kiss at our wedding be as nice as the one we just shared."

Gwen fled down the hallway, head down to hide her tears. Merlin watched her go, torn between watching Arthur and comforting Gwen.

.o0o.

"So," said Merlin, at the start of their meeting that night, forcing false cheer into his voice, "It seems that your plan worked anyway, Gwen. Despite some, er, minor issues."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm touched," she muttered, mind still on the image of Arthur kissing Larisa back.

Gwaine reached over and poked her in the shoulder. "Yes, you are," he replied, ducking as she hurled Merlin' pillow at him. It crashed against the sign, which now read:

Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and Knights: 4

Uther, Lords, and Brides to be: 3


End file.
